


Running With the Pack

by SuperiorJello



Category: Supernatural, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperiorJello/pseuds/SuperiorJello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sam and Dean are teens, and their Dad is the town sheriff. One night, on the day before their 11th year of school, they overhear their dad on the phone. There’s been half a body found in the woods, and the force needs to be mobilized to find the other half. They head out by themselves to investigate, and come across it, but Sam is caught by their dad. Rather than ratting out his older brother, he heads out with John, leaving Dean behind. Dean is bitten by a werewolf, and the only one with an explanation is the dark haired Castiel Novak, whose family had all died in a tragic fire years ago, and who had only recently returned to town- looking for his sister Anna.<br/>Also new in town is Allison, whose father Crowley and Aunt Lilith are hiding a big family secret.</p><p>A Supernatural/Teen Wolf crossover AU</p><p>I'm mixing up parts of the Scott/Stiles dynamic to better fit the Sam/Dean dynamic. Also, some of the characters from Teen Wolf are being left as they are cause I like 'em better/couldn't find a better fit than themselves. Like Lydia and Allison. Originally I had them as Bela and Ruby, but I like Allison and Lydia better. (So, yeah, if you'd read this earlier, I changed their names, just FYI)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Adventure Begins

“Dad just got a call. Sounded official.”  
  
Dean sighed, not looking up from his laptop. His younger brother had a knack for poking his nose into where it didn’t belong- and especially into their dad’s police business. He had asked both of them to leave police business to the police, but Sam never listened. If he got himself mixed up with something again…  
  
“There’s a body.”  
  
He sighed once more, finally raising his eyes to his brother’s eager face. He had a feeling that Sam wasn’t going to let this one go- not that he had let anything go. Ever. Dean had learned early on that pranks were a bad idea.  
  
“A dead body, I take it?” he replied dryly, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“No, a body of water.” Sam quipped, sarcasm dripping off the words. “Of course a dead body! Come with me to help look?”  
  
“I thought you said they had found it.”  
  
“Well, they found half. That’s why they needed dad- the whole force has been mobilized to look for the other half.”  
  
“If dad’s out in those woods with the whole force, they’ll have the dogs out too. That means scent hounds, dumbass. And we have school tomorrow- first day. Not to mention lacrosse tryouts. You know that I want to make first line.”  
  
“Oh, come on! Don’t you have any sense of adventure‽”  
  
“Of course I do, it’s just...”  
  
Well fuck.  
  
He had no good reasons left to supplement his argument, and Sammy had managed to pique his curiosity.  
  
“Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming it on you.”  
  
***  
  
“Why didn’t we bring two flashlights?” Dean grumbled. “That would have been clever. But no… we had to rush off without any proper planning, because they might find it first. Because that’s always a great idea. Do we even know which half of the body we’re looking for?”  
  
“No, they didn’t say. I just kind of figured the top… unless the person was sliced into left and right sides…”  
  
“Ugh. Gross.” Dean paused, clearing that mental image out as fast as possible. “Another question. What if we run into the thing that killed Mr. Body?”  
  
“Hadn’t really thought about that. Guess we just hope that we don’t.”  
  
“Well, that’s comforting.”  
  
Dean allowed himself to fall into silence, following the bobbing light that was his brother ahead of him. This helped give him enough warning to jump behind a tree just as one of the search parties crested a rise ahead of them, their light pouring over the edge accompanied by the sound of dogs barking.  
  
Sammy was not so lucky.  
  
“Sam, that better not be you, wandering, alone, in the woods, with a murderer on the loose. One of my sons wouldn’t be that stupid.” Dean peered through the branches, careful not to make a sound.  
  
“I’m not here alone. I’m here with-“ He broke off, realizing that the use of the word ‘alone’ meant that he hadn’t seen Dean. “You! All you policemen, with your dogs and your guns. I think I’m pretty safe here.”  
  
At the pause, their dad grew suspicious. “Don’t tell me Dean is out here with you... Dean?”  
  
“No, no, no, no. You know Dean. I know Dean. He follows your orders to the tee! He would never… You know he would argue me into staying behind- if not, use his superior lacrosse player strength to keep me there.” Dean cringed at that. It’s what he should have done.  
  
“Fair enough. You are in big trouble mister. Think Lucifer’s pit, apocalypse type trouble…”  
  
The conversation faded as he led the search party back to the vehicles, probably to drive Sam back home. Dean would have to run back as fast as he could- if dad looked in on him to give a piece of his mind about Sammy and found him missing there would be hell to pay. Of course, now he didn’t even have a flashlight.  
  
After one minute he had tripped an embarrassing amount of times. It didn’t help that though the moon was near full, the leafy branches overhead blocked most of the light, and the underbrush grabbed at his jeans, catching and pulling at the material. His hands were covered with scratches, and he was sure there was dirt permanently ground into his palms. Then he had a brilliant idea- pulling out his cell, he used the backlight to illuminate his way.  
  
That’s how he found the body.  
  
“Holy fuck!” He hissed between his teeth, clenching his jaw to keep from yelling. Unbeknownst to both Sam and his dad, he did go over all his father’s reports when neither of them were around, so he had seen some pretty grisly stuff. The physical reality was much worse. He thought it was mostly the smell, which caused his stomach to churn and his eyes to water. It was all he could do to keep his food down, and he fell to his knees fighting to overcome the light-headedness and nausea.  
  
Which would explain how he didn’t hear it coming.  
  
‘It’ would be defined as a huge black mass hurtling at him out of the dark, full of teeth and claws and fur. He felt himself lifted off the ground, and then his back slammed into a tree. He managed to make out a dog-like muzzle before he felt a searing pain in his side, then he had enough of a break to catch his breath, so he took it and ran. A howl followed his running footsteps through the woods but he heard nothing giving chase- he took it as a blessing and continued running. He didn’t notice at the time, but he didn’t trip once on his way out, even though his sprint should have sent him careening into trees and gotten him caught in the tangling underbrush.  
  
***  
  
“Your brother should be up by now. He always wakes up before his alarm.” John's voice echoed through his skull, so loud he would have sworn it could rattle his teeth. Sam's reply wasn't much quieter.  
  
“Before today I would have argued that he didn’t need the bloody thing. Obviously I would have been proven wrong… I’ll go get him.”  
  
Dean groaned inwardly. The conversation sounded like it was happening right in front of him, but from the accompanying food noises, he guessed it had to be coming from the kitchen. How was that possible? Grumbling, he opened his eyes to the morning sun, but immediately had to squeeze them shut again. Why is the sun so bright? He wondered silently, rubbing the sleep from them with both hands. That was when the alarm went off.  
  
“Jesus Christ!” He slammed his hand down of the snooze button- apparently using a bit more force than intended, because he both heard and felt it shatter under his hand.  
  
“Well, I guess you won’t be needing me then.” He heard wryly from the door. Squinting through the light, he saw Sammy framed in the doorway, still holding the handle.  
  
“Dude, no shouting.” He moaned. “I’m in enough pain as it is. What with my side…” pausing, he looked down.  
  
Last night he had managed to bandage the bite up before collapsing into bed, but this morning he didn’t feel a thing. The gauze was soaked through, he should feel the stretch of the scabbing, and ache from all over bruises, but… As Sam watched, keeping an eye out for John hopefully (though he could still hear him moving around in the kitchen), he peeled away the wrappings. There was nothing there. Remembering all of his night’s injuries, he looked at his hands- no scratches. Now worried, he looked at his legs. Nothing, even though his jeans has been ragged when he took them off last night. He even looked at them again, and the bottoms were definitely in tatters. Same with his shirt- there was a bloody hole in the side, and some scratches in the arms that he hadn’t noticed before. Of course, there wasn’t a trace of them on his body now.  
  
“Sammy, I swear I was covered in scratches and a bite last night.” he said, with a pleading look at his younger brother. “I swear, but they’re just-“ he paused, unsure how to explain it without sounding like a nutcase.  
  
“I know." Sam replied softly, looking at Dean with wide eyes. "Dad may have banished me to my room for being caught, but when I heard you come in I had to check. I peeked into the washroom when I heard you going through the medicine cabinet.”  
  
“Well, that’s not creepy at all. Also, you saw the state I was in- why didn’t you come in and help‽”  
  
“I heard dad move. I didn’t want to be caught. Again. But seriously, what happened?” Sam came and sat on the bed, the box spring squeaking under the memory foam mattress.  
  
“Well, as soon as you got caught I started heading back. I used my cell for a flashlight… and I found the body. Quiet!” He hissed, listening to their father moving around the kitchen, waiting for some sign that he had heard Sam’s exclamation.  
  
“Before you ask, it was the top half, and it’s a she. Anyways, I got like 5 seconds, because next thing you know, some huge-ass freaking wolf attacks me, bites me, and then lets me run. I’m lucky to be alive!”  
  
“It can’t have been a wolf- there haven’t been any wolves in California for 60 years.”  
  
“Well it was something. And I was bitten, and now I’m not hurt. At all. So seeing a wolf wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that happened to me. Plus, I heard it howl, man. Don’t tell me that that wasn’t a freaking wolf.”  
  
“Well, whatever it was-” Dean cut him off, hearing their dad coming upstairs.  
  
“-Will have to wait. We have school in half an hour, and I haven’t showered or eaten yet. First day of grade 11!”


	2. When We First Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being bitten by some sort of creature the night before, Dean goes to school with his brother Sam. And life starts getting weird.

Though they were technically a year apart, they were in the same grade because Sammy had a tendency towards the brilliant, so he had been bumped up a grade. Might have gone up two, but he hadn’t wanted to go past Dean, and Dean was okay with that. Whereas many siblings couldn’t stand each other, they were like best friends- generally described as ‘inseparable’ by the people around them. And being in the same grade meant he could protect his younger brother better- not that he was a slouch (an impossibility with their dad- they’d been doing physical training since they were 6) but he was a nerd, and that attracted bullies.  
  
Dean was having enough trouble focusing on the road, so he just kept silent the whole trip there. It felt like he was in sensory overload, hearing and smelling everything, so he was jumpier than a hyperactive squirrel on coffee. Luckily his reflexes seemed to be compensating for his distraction.  
  
As they pulled into the parking lot, Dean turned to Sammy, finally breaking the silence. “Not a word to anyone.” He said, looking into his eyes. “We’ll look into things, just… not now, okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Leave all the weird for later, focus on the absolute bore of syllabus day. Why can’t we actually learn stuff on the first day?”  
  
“Dude, you are weird as hell.” They clambered out of the jeep, a car that was his until he proved himself trustworthy enough for the Impala. “Learning isn't the point of highschool. Highschool is where you go to get your licence to learn. And we now have this magical thing called the internet. So I’m going to focus on more…” A couple of girls walked by, obviously trying to impress the boy they were both clinging to. Their perfume washed over Dean, coupled with the musk of the guys aftershave, flooding his nose and nearly making him sneeze. “… interesting topics.”  
  
“Seriously Dean?” Sam rolled his eyes. “And come on, those two aren't even that good looking. Now, Lydia, on the other hand…”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes and turned to look at the group standing in front of a silver Porsche. There was Lydia Martin, designer clothes, perfectly styled red hair, penetrating hazel eyes, and an ego the size of the continental US, standing next to her boyfriend Michael, owner of the aforementioned Porsche, with an ego to match, and captain of the lacrosse team. The only other regular to their group was Gabriel, best friend of Michael since childhood, a bigger troublemaker than Sammy, and the hottest gay guy in the school. A group of girls standing nearby bemoaned his sexual orientation- Dean just wanted them to moan about it somewhere else. Quietly. Other students drifted by the popular clique, offering greetings and news, sharing gossip, and making other empty gestures in an attempt to be ‘cool’. Despite the distance, he heard every word.  
  
Dean let his breath out in a gust, and returned his regard to Sammy. “Lydia Martin?” he asked. “Why? She’s the queen Bitch of the school- playing wannabes against each other like their lives are a game.”  
  
“She’s highly intelligent and very pretty.” Sam retorted, obviously prepared for Dean’s reaction. “Yes, she’s manipulative, but she never causes any permanent or physical harm. She sometimes even fixes things.”  
  
“Yeah, like when?”  
  
“Remember when Michael was given the position of captain last year, and him only a 10th grader? Over a senior? And the senior and all his friends were going to take it out on him, but she suggested that they have a competition showing skill at lacrosse versus leadership skills? Well, there never was a fight, and the senior got to show that he was slightly better at the actual game, but not that great at leading a team, so everyone saw why Mike was picked!”  
  
“Yeah, it also meant her pretty little boyfriend didn’t get his pretty little head bashed in.”  
  
“True, but it did help.” Obviously Sam had made a decision and was sticking to it.  
  
“Fine, I’ll give you that one. Good luck with it.” He regarded his brother wryly. Never one to follow the easy path, he thought to himself. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna start saying that Michael isn’t a capital D Douche.”  
  
“Oh, he is, I completely agree. But he’s also a good team captain. Gabe now, he’s a good guy- though a little overly fond of practical jokes."  
  
"Like you're one to talk."  
  
"True, but still-“ the first bell rang, signaling for the mass of students to head towards their homerooms. As Sam and Dean headed into theirs, they were greeted by the familiar sight of Ellen Harvelle, a teacher who’d been there since before they were born, and whose daughter Jo had been their babysitter until Dean was old enough to look after Sam himself.  
  
“Hello Sam, Dean.” She smiled wryly at them. “I heard you’re still up to your usual tricks. Especially you, Sam.”  
  
“Gotta keep life interesting, Mrs. Harvelle.” Sam smiled impishly back, completely unashamed. He could get away with being a bit of a troublemaker- his innocent smiles, friendly banter, and good marks got him through anything.  
  
The two took their usual seats in the second row, watching their other yearmates as they came in. Lydia, Mike and Gabe took their usual seats along the side of the wall, and the others sat in their own constructed pecking order. By the time everyone was settled, there was an empty seat on Dean’s right, which was normal. But although the class was ready and waiting, Ellen didn't start the class right away, though she did close the door. Confused, Dean looked up expectantly.  
  
Looking out over the class, she started. “Now, I’m sure you've all heard, but I've been instructed to tell you that a body has been found in the woods just outside of town…”  
  
Oh. That. Old news, so he let his mind wander. At first he listened to the buzzing of the students gossiping behind him, but the fact that he could hear every individual word started to worry him, so he let his thoughts wander out into the clouds, but then he heard something… two sets of footsteps… was that coming from the hallway?  
  
“I’m so pleased you’ve decided to transfer to our school Miss Argent.” That was the familiar voice of the principal, Mr. Campbell.  
  
“Well, my family moves around a lot- my dad’s work. I hope I get to stay here longer than most, it seems really nice.”  
  
“Why thank-you. Now, here is your homeroom. If you get lost going to any of your other classes, I’m sure one of your yearmates could help you.”  
  
“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be all right.”  
  
Dean jumped as the door opened, the sound jarring him out of his reverie as he watched the girl he had just heard enter the room. Sam looked at him oddly, but made no comment. Then he noticed the girl, and Dean doubted he’d even remember Dean’s jumpiness. From the look on Sam’s face, Dean wouldn't be surprised if Lydia had been shoved aside- at least for now- for this pretty brunette. Dean thought she was fine enough, but not his type.  
  
“Ah, Allison, I was informed that you’d be here. Please, take a seat.” Ellen welcomed her warmly, probably knowing that being the new girl can be hard, but seemed reassured by the girl’s attitude. Looking up at the class, Allison smiled confidently, and then quickly took the seat next to Dean.  
  
“Hi, I’m Allison.” She smiled again, and offered her hand, which Dean took.  
  
“Dean.” He replied. “And this here’s my brother Sam.” He pointed to his left, knowing full well that if he hadn't introduced them, he would have been in for it later.  
  
“Hello Sam.” Dean noted that her brown eyes matched her hair perfectly as she directed her look towards his younger brother, causing both to catch the light coming in through the window.  
  
Speaking of bright light… he looked directly at the window, but this time didn't have to look away. Apparently he just had needed to adjust to the bright lights this morning. Or he was overtired. Or something. Nothing too weird… right? Sighing, he turned his attentions back to class. They were going over the syllabus. Oh joy.  
  
***  
  
At lunch, Allison sat with them, so he had no chance to talk to Sam about what was going on. And from the eyes the couple were making at each other, he might be losing some quality brother time in the near future. They were acting like a modern day Romeo and Juliet, which, given the ending, was not entirely a good thing.  
  
“If our dad gives you two any trouble, talk to me first. No double suicides here please.” He muttered to Sam on the way to their last class.  
  
“Romeo and Juliet Dean? Really?” At that point he remembered the hour long rant that Sam had done only a year ago on the subject, mostly pertaining to their youth and the rash decisions they make because of lust.  
  
“From the way you two are going on, it’s a justifiable leap.” Dean teased, faking ignorance of the irritation on Sam’s face, then frowning. What was that smell?  
  
“I can’t wait until you find someone. I am going to have a field day, telling them everything that bugs you.”  
  
“Ugh, no!” Dean replied distractedly, sniffing. “Dude, can you smell that?”  
  
“Smell what?” Sam looked at him worriedly, the concern evident in his warm eyes.  
  
“That… smell. I don’t know how to describe it! It’s just… it smells annoying...well, annoyed. That’s how it smells! It’s getting fainter now…” Dean looked at Sammy, full of concern now when moments ago he had been ticked off. A few gears clicked into place. “Well shit. Don’t tell me I can smell emotions as well as having super hearing!”  
  
“Super… super hearing? Smelling emotions? What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Well, I thought I was just being uber sensitive, but then… things have just been getting weird all day. Like hearing things that I shouldn't be able to hear. Through a few walls kind of not able to hear. And smelling things… well, you just saw. And then there’s the healing…”  
  
“I thought you were just running on adrenaline, you know, boosted to a high level from your scare in the woods... “  
  
“This is way more than adrenaline.”  
  
“Yeah, I've got that now… are you good for class?” Sam was concerned. He was even doing the thing with his eyebrows.  
  
Dean rolled his eyes. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a little weird. And it’s not like I have to pay attention anyways. God bless syllabus day!”  
  
***  
  
After class, he and Sam struck out for the library.  
  
After a few hours, it was evident that this was a huge waste of time. The books that Sam looked through all contradicted each other, didn't make any sense, or didn't describe anything he was going through. The web searches that he did while Sam was looking at books didn't help either. Nothing either of them read pointed at anything real, all of his symptoms were like the beginning of horror movies. Or superhero comics. Or anime.  
  
“This isn't helping.” Dean stated, closing out of his latest tab, which had turned out to be yet another blog dedicated to a comic strip.  
  
“Well, I've managed to rule out all of the normal poisons, steroids, hypnosis, and Harry Potter.” Sam replied, grinning as he said the last couple. “Though you were bitten by something, you’re not Lupin.”  
  
“Oh great. So now we can rule out werewolf…ness from the list of totally real diseases that I could have.”  
  
“Well technically A- it’s called lycanthropy, and B- I ruled out the Harry Potter version, not every piece of lore. What we need is more data. Maybe we should give it a day, see what tomorrow brings?”  
  
Dean looked at him incredulously. “You’re not seriously considering lycan..whatever?”  
  
Sam simply replied-“’When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ Sherlock Holmes. But in all seriousness, wouldn't it be awesome?”  
  
“Alright.” Said Dean, rolling his eyes and searching his bag for his phone. “But if I murder the whole town on the full moon because we couldn't figure this out, totally your fault. Have you seen my phone?” Giving up on searching through it, he upended his backpack onto the table.  
  
“How is this my fault? And where was the last place you saw or used it?”  
  
“You’re the one who dragged me into those woods. Anyways, I didn't use it this morning, or all day at school…” Fuck. He closed his eyes and gave a silent prayer… more of a shout really. Asking the universe why it felt like dumping everything on him today. “The last place I had it… was in the woods. Last night.”  
  
“Don’t tell me we’re…”  
  
“We’re going for a hike Sammy.”  
  
“Dad’s gonna kick my ass if I’m out too late. You know how he gets after I pull something and get caught.”  
  
“And you still go ahead and do what you want anyways.”  
  
Sam grinned and started shoving Dean’s things back into his pack. “True. Life is much too boring, elsewise. Let’s go.”  
  
“Normally, I’d drag your ass right back home, but I’ll need an extra pair of eyes to find my phone.” They were headed out the door now, and piling into the jeep.  
  
“You might not. What with your newfound spidey senses and all.” The road went around a corner, and suddenly the forest was all around them.  
  
“You’re going to come anyways, so why not let me believe that you’re coming for a reason.” Dean pulled to a stop, looking straight over at Sam, who used his impish grin to great effect once again.  
  
“Nah. You love it when people infuriate you –just as long as they can take you nattering back at them and they know when to stop. Which is my specialty.”  
  
Dean smiled at that. Indeed it was. It seemed that most other people just didn't get his sense of humor quite the way Sam did. Not even their father understood him, though he did command Dean’s respect and obedience (much to Sam’s confusion).  
  
“Which way are we going anyways?”  
  
“We went vaguely that way, I think. Let’s see what my smell-o-tron 5000 can pick up.”


	3. Unexplained Forces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean meet a mysterious stranger, who Dean then attacks.

After 2 hours, he finally got something solid. Since he had gotten out of the car he had been able to smell their trail, but he didn’t know enough about his new abilities yet to determine the distance. So they had been wandering until they found something.  
  
“I think I found it.”  
  
Sam paused and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “You sure? Because as much as I love adventures, this one is getting a little boring.”  
  
“I’m… 99% sure.” He looked down and saw a footprint in some soft ground. “Make that 100.” He said, pointing it out. “It even gives us direction!”  
  
“Lucky us.”  
  
They followed the trail for a while, occasionally stopping for Sam to catch his breath. Dean felt fine, and would have kept going if his brother hadn’t needed the breaks. If fact, he was more than fine. He had known before that he liked the peace and solitude of the woods, but now…  
  
Now it felt like home.  
  
They were walking again, and he had started picking up on another scent. He had suspected it was someone from one of the dog teams that had been doing the search, because there was both human and canine in it, but now he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t mention it to Sam, trying to keep from worrying him.  
  
Then he smelt it. It was gross, it was rotted… and it was faint.  
  
He crouched to the ground, sniffing.  
  
It was where he had found the body last night, he was sure of it. He could smell himself all over the place, and there was a faint trace of blood- his from when he had been bitten, as well as that from the corpse. But it wasn’t here anymore- the corpse. There were two more scents- traveling the woods for two hours had helped him figure out this whole smell thing a lot better- something that he guessed was whatever had bitten him, and something fresher, though they were both very similar. Crouching closer to where the body had been, he sniffed, filling his nose with the scent, then following it in the same direction that the fresher scent had come and gone in. As he tracked, he let his instincts take over.  
  
“Dude, what are you even…” But Sam's questions fell on deaf ears- Dean was like a scent hound- entirely focused on the smell. As he got up from his crouch, still sniffing, and started following a trail of some sort through the woods, Sam had no choice but to follow.  
  
“Dean! Dean! Aren't we looking for your phone? Dean! Snap out of it! Dean!” spouting off protests, Sam followed Dean deeper into the woods, keeping a wary eye out.  
  
“What are you doing here? This is private property.” Jarred from his concentration, head clear of the scent he had been focused on not a moment before, Dean's eyes snapped up to the man standing before them. He was just shy of 6 feet in height, and his hair was dark, cut short. His shoulders fit well in the tan leather jacket he was wearing, and the dark jeans fit him perfectly. His blue eyes were guarded and piercing, ready for an attack and sizing them up.  
  
“I am so sorry. We are so sorry.” Supplied Sam, when Dean didn't say anything. “We were just out looking for his phone- he dropped it, and-“  
  
As the man reached into his pocket and tossed what could only be his phone to Sam, Dean caught a whiff of his scent on the air, and stiffened. It was the one he had been following. This man was the one who had moved the body.  
  
“Thanks! I’m not sure how you found it, but…” Sam trailed off, looking sideways at his brother- who was still staring at the strange man.  
  
“Oh, I think I do.” Dean took the information he had, and stuck it together. This man, whose scent was similar to the one of whatever had attacked him, who had moved the body of someone ripped to pieces, who had been able to find his phone in the middle of the woods, who didn't seem at all surprised by Dean’s superhuman ability to track him here, must be responsible for everything. If there was magic or whatever going on, there was probably only one magic going on, and since the scent was similar maybe it changed if he… transformed? Dean didn't know. All he knew was that he was angry.  
  
***  
  
The tone of his brother's voice surprised Sam, as he had never seen his brother so filled with anger. Sam saw the stranger roll his eyes at Dean's words and shift his stance a little. That's when Sam realized his brother was no longer standing beside him.  
  
Dean leaped at the stranger, his velocity sending both of them tumbling into the leaves. Sam started running towards them, completely astounded by his brother’s behavior. The two boys were now back on their feet and staring each other down. Why was Dean acting so strangely? It didn't make any sense- for one, Sam was well aware Dean knew better ways to fight than this. But it was like he was fighting in a blind rage, and had completely forgotten his training...  
  
That’s when he heard the snarling.  
  
Drawing closer, he slowed, confused. Dean was facing him, and the stranger had his back turned. It almost seemed like he had planted himself between them, but that wouldn't make any sense. Dean would never hurt him, he was attacking the stranger, so why… He looked back at Dean for an answer, and gasped at what he saw. Dean's eyes had turned a bright gold, and there was something with his teeth…It looked like he had fangs.  
  
***  
  
“Get back!” the stranger yelled at Sam, turning to look over his shoulder, his blue eyes glowing, the fangs apparent in his mouth. Dean took his chance, going for the jugular. It seemed like he had him, but at the last moment the stranger brought up his arm and grabbed Dean's shirt, turning with the force of his attack to slam him into a tree, holding him there.  
  
“I thought I would let you get some of that anger out, but you are trying my patience.” He said in an even tone, a disgruntled look on his face. His eyes were back to their original blue, no longer glowing, and Dean found them oddly calming.  
  
“Dean? Dean, are you all right?” Sammy sounded panicked, and his heart was pounding. His heart? Dean wondered to himself. He supposed he could hear those too now. He turned his thoughts inwards and listened to his own, which was beating even faster than Sam’s. But it seemed that simply by concentrating on it, he slowed it down. It probably helped that he wasn't focused on the dark-haired, blue-eyed man in front of him. Just thinking about him caused Dean's heart rate to escalate, and he had to focus to bring it down again.  
  
“Your brother will be fine. I just gave him a couple of scratches, and even they will be gone soon.” The stranger looked over to Sam, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “He’s even calming down, so I should be able to let him down soon.”  
  
“You…” Sam paused, as if he was trying to come to grips with what he had just witnessed. What had he just witnessed? Dean wondered, thinking back to what he had done.  
  
“What am I?” he choked out, past the arm pinning him to the tree. “What’s happened to me?”  
  
The blue-eyed man looked back at him. “What do you know about werewolves?”


	4. Dude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam have a nice little talk with Castiel about werewolves.

“Werewolves?” asked Dean incredulously. “Werewolves? Look man, you don’t look that much older than us, and I know we’re young, but it’s been quite a few years since Sam and I found out that Santa isn’t real. So excuse me, buddy blue, if I find your children’s stories a little hard to believe.”  
  
“My name is Castiel.” He replied. “And look around you. Listen. Smell. Feel. Think back on what just happened. Do you have a better explanation for your actions? Your loss of control?” He placed his free hand on Dean’s chest, fingers spread wide. “This is your center. You managed to find it. You regained your control. That’s good.” He let go of Dean completely, backing off slightly. Far enough to be out of his face, but still close enough to keep him from trying anything.  
  
“Dean, think about it.” Sammy came a bit closer, using his ‘rational explanation’ voice. Usually he reserved it for telling teachers why his way of solving an equation was much faster and more efficient, and he didn’t know why the school system insisted on using outdated teaching methods but god help him he was going to fix that, but apparently the situation here called for its use. “You’ve been complaining about weird things happening all day. And you were willing to accept this as a possibility when we were at the library.”  
  
“You two tried to figure this out at the library?” Castiel asked, his tone conveying his skepticism.  
  
“Yes. To read makes our speaking English good.” The eldest Winchester brother saw Sam smirk at his reference before he glanced back at Castiel- who was staring at Dean, a quizzical frown upon his face.  
  
“Did you never attend an educational institution?” He asked, causing Sam to guffaw.  
  
“Dude,” Dean replied. “You need to watch Buffy. Especially if you are a… werewolf.” He stumbled over the last word, not quite come to terms with it yet, then had another thought. “If there are werewolves, are there vampires?”  
  
“Not to my knowledge, no. Though, with humanity as a whole still ignorant of us, I would not be surprised if they had managed to keep their kind a secret as well.”  
  
“Great. So Twilight could be real? Just what I wanted in my day.” Dean rolled his eyes.  
  
Sam shifted feet, tired from all the walking, and Castiel sighed.  
  
“You two are going to have a few questions. Why don’t you come inside?” he asked, indicating the house that was just visible through the trees. “I’m sure you’d like a chance to rest your legs.”  
  
They agreed, and headed towards the house. As they entered the clearing around it, Dean saw Sam pause as he took in the view. Before them was an old two-story fallen into disrepair, a dirt road leading up to it probably connecting to some back-country roadways eventually leading back to town. It had probably been quite glorious once, but time and neglect had done their work, and now boarded-up windows and overgrown flowerbeds greeted them solemnly.  
  
“Castiel,” Sam intoned, eyes wide. “Are you… are you one of the Novaks?”  
  
Castiel wilted, his tough exterior melting away before their eyes.  
  
“Let’s get settled in, and I’ll tell you my story.” He said, not looking into either of their faces, but instead walking with his eyes straight ahead.  
  
Dean remembered the Novaks, but only vaguely. He and Sammy had been very young. In fact, it had been exactly 10 years since the day when the Novak house had burnt down. Dean had thought that the whole family had died in the fire, but apparently not.  
  
As they entered the house, they saw the reason such a lovely place had been left to time’s ravages. The rear of the house had burned , only some of the walls left standing. Through the gaps they could see into the back yard, where a black Camero was parked, hidden from view by the house. Castiel led them into a room on the ground floor, near the front so it was undamaged by fire. He had obviously just recently cleaned it out, and his bags were still left in a pile on the floor. A table surrounded by chairs indicated that this had once been the dining room, and it was now likely the only serviceable room in the house.  
  
Cas indicated for them to sit at the table, then dug into his bag, pulling out three bottled waters. After handing one to each of the brothers, he sat across from them.  
  
“So.”  
  
“So.” Replied Dean.  
  
Cas sighed, took a sip of water, and began.  
  
“I grew up here, in this house. We had a whole family here- mom, dad, grandparents, siblings, my aunts and uncles, cousins… we were born werewolves. It’s been in the family for generations, and we stuck together. We were a pack." he smiled, the kind memories a momentary respite. "But then one day…” he faltered, and took another sip of water before continuing. “One day, a family of hunters moved into town. I was nine at the time.” He looked up, directly into Dean’s eyes.  
  
“Hunters are normal humans who know about us. The supernatural. The weres. And they hunt us down, and they kill us.” Dean shivered at that, but didn’t look away.  
  
“They have a code of conduct, of course. From childhood they are raised to track, to hunt, to kill. But they are also told to never kill without provocation. To wait until the wolf has tried to kill or harm a human being- innocent until proven guilty. But there was one hunter who did not follow that code.” A look of pain crossed his face, and he looked down at his hands. Dean shifted, almost instinctively wanting to reach out and hold them, to comfort someone who had gone through such intense pain. But he held back, forcing himself to keep still.  
  
“From what my sister and I could construct from the aftermath, she came into the house through the front door, walking in like she owned the place." He spat out, the disgust and anger showing on his face. "She had wolfsbane hiding her scent and luck hiding her heartbeat- it was game night, and the family was around the TV, cheering on their favorite team and being loud and rowdy. She used a wolfsbane smoke bomb to knock them out, then one by one dragged them into the kitchen. After covering them in gasoline, she set fire to the house, and left. Only my uncle survived, and he’s in a coma.” At this point Dean did reach out, placing his hand over Cas’s own as the older boy held back tears. He and Sam had lost their mother to cancer when they were young, and while it was nothing on this scale, they could sympathize.  
  
“My sister Anna and I were out of town that night, visiting another werewolf family, so we were spared. They took us in, raising us, putting us through school, but we were always separate. We were our own pack.” He paused again, looking at the hand over his as if only just noticing it. Dean shifted as if to remove it, but Cas caught it in his own, smiling in thanks for the small comfort.  
  
“Anna came down here a week ago, searching for something- she wouldn't tell me what, exactly. Answers? Closure? Perhaps to see if we could return and rebuild? I’m not sure.” He sighed, resting his head on his free hand.  
  
“You found half of her in the woods last night.”  
  
A shocked silence fell over the table, and Dean stopped and thought. If that body was Cas’s sister, then he doubted Cas was the killer. And if Cas wasn't the killer, then there was something else out in those woods, something strong enough to take on a werewolf. Perhaps even another werewolf. He looked back into Castiel’s piercing blue eyes, but Cas didn't hold his gaze for long. He started talking again, this time with a bit of a hysterical edge to it.  
  
“She had not called back in a few days, so I decided to come down here, looking for her. I arrived at about 3 this morning.” 3? Dean thought. Cas couldn't possibly have been the one to bite him, then. “I came directly to the house, but she was not here, and neither were her things. I was about to leave, thinking she had gotten a room in a hotel, but then I caught her scent, leading away from here. I followed it, all the way to her corpse- I had to bypass a couple of police teams, but I got her before they did and I carried her back here and buried her, and now I do not know what, or, or how to-“  
  
“Hey. Look at me. Look at me!” Dean interrupted Cas’s babbling, letting go of his hand and clambering around the table so he could grab Cas’s face and force him to look into his eyes.  
  
“You've got to calm down, Cas. You're glowing.” Dean gestured at Castiel's eyes, and they widened, and then closed as he wrestled with his emotions. Dean listened to his heart, and it slowly worked its way towards normal.  
  
“Dean?” Sam asked warily, keeping an eye on Cas. “Should I…?”  
  
“No, he’s fine.” Dean replied calmly, letting his hands drop. “If it had been me, you should probably have been running, but Cas here…” he looked back at his new friend. Packmate? He wasn't sure what term to use for him yet. “It must have taken you years to develop control like that.”  
  
“It did. And luckily there was a whole pack of other werewolves to keep me grounded until I did.”  
  
“Can you call any of them in to help with this?” Sam asked, his wariness gone now that Dean had said it was alright.  
  
“No.” Cas replied, “No, and it would be next to impossible for me to find them again. Hunter activity has been picking up, so they have gone into hiding. The last time I saw them- around a month ago- was at the Seattle airport. Not even our senses can track planes, and they did not tell me where they were going. Anna and I- we had made the decision to strike out on our own, and they wanted to keep their children safe. I do not blame them in the least.”  
  
“So we have to figure out who killed your sister, with limited information, and deal with Dean being a newly-bitten werewolf at the same time? Sounds like fun!” Sam’s ability to make light of any situation still astounded Dean sometimes.  
  
“No.”  
  
The two brothers looked at each other, then back at Cas.  
  
“What do you mean no?” Dean asked, disbelief tempering his voice. “You need help- you can’t do this alone.”  
  
“I am not going to drag a couple of kids into a murder investigation!”  
  
“I’m seventeen!” Retorted Dean. “And a werewolf, if newly turned.”  
  
“And I’m sixteen! And if you bit me too, I’d be just as powerful as Dean.”  
  
“I didn't bite him.” Cas stated, at the same time Dean said “Cas didn't bite me.”  
  
Cas and Dean looked at each other, startled by their synchronized answers, then turned back to Sam.  
  
“It was only about 1:30 when I got bitten.” Explained Dean. “I remember because I had been using my phone for a flashlight, and I had just looked at the time before I found- before I found Anna. Cas didn't arrive till 3.”  
  
“And I could not have done it anyways. Well, I would not risk it.” Added Castiel. “An Alpha, the leader of a pack, can bite a person and have a 90% chance that it will take. A Beta- like you and me Dean- has only a 30% chance of it working. There is a chance that the human’s body will reject the bite like poison, and in doing so it causes the heart to shut down and the person to die.”  
  
“Well that’s just perfect. So who’s your Alpha?” asked Sam.  
  
“Well, technically I am an Omega.” Cas corrected himself. “Meaning ‘one without pack’ or ‘lone wolf’. Dean, on the other hand, is beta to whomever bit him.”  
  
“And I don’t suppose you know who that would happen to be?”  
  
“I am sorry Dean. But in this case, you know as much as I.”  
  
“Which is why you should let us help you!” Sam interjected triumphantly. “Our dad is the town sheriff. If anything comes up, we can let you know.“  
  
“At what risk? I've already lost my sister to this. I’m not going to drag you into it.”  
  
“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I was dragged in when they bit me. And you get me, you get Sammy. We’re a package deal. And bullshit on this murderer being my alpha! My alpha is whoever I choose it to be.”  
  
“Dean, I…”  
  
“You need help. You've got us. Deal with it.”  
  
The two stared at each other, Castiel’s eyes searching, Dean’s steadfast and unwavering.  
  
The ring of Dean’s cell finally broke the silent contest. He stepped into the hall, leaving Cas and Sam dealing with the awkward aftermath.  
  
“You know he means it, right?” Sam asked, after a pause.  
  
Castiel looked over at Sam, whose statement had jarred him out of quiet contemplation. His earnest eyes looked directly into Castiel’s own, calmly regarding the older boy’s reluctance.  
  
“But does he realize the danger he’ll be putting himself in? Putting you in?”  
  
“Not completely. But I believe he at least knows that, and is willing to accept the risk that things might be worse than he anticipates. And he thinks that he’s strong enough to keep me from getting hurt, so he won’t mind throwing himself into things. He’s like that.” Sam smiled sadly, thinking back to the days of elementary and middle school, when Dean had put himself in between Sam and bullies time and time again, even knowing that dad had taught Sam the same as Dean, so he could protect himself. Cas opened his mouth, about to say something, but Sam cut him off.  
  
“I know that he won’t be there every time I’m in trouble, and that even if he is, he may not be strong enough. But I’m still willing to help. As Dean said, you need it. We’re here. Plus, I’m bored as hell with the stuff they teach us in school. My brain can be put to better use working this stuff out.”  
  
Castiel paused, as if trying to find something that he could say to get Sam to back down, but he eventually sighed and looked up in defeat, pasting a smile onto his face.  
  
“It seems you have everything figured out. How am I to argue with such enthusiasm?”  
  
From the hall they both heard Dean say loudly-  
  
“Okay dad! I get it! We’ll be home soon!”  
  
Storming back into the room, he stopped when he noticed both of them looking at him curiously and rolled his eyes.  
  
“I may have told dad that we were out looking for my phone. And he may have asked where I had lost it. And I may have answered ‘the woods’. And in this hypothetical situation in which I told him this, he may have put two and two together and figured out that I was out here with you last night. And if he happened to figure this all out, he would not be happy.”  
  
“So, hypothetically, when we get home, dad is going to be pissed?”  
  
“Hypothetically.”  
  
"At least it won't just be me this time."  
  
Cas couldn't help but smile at this exchange. Whatever doubts he may have about bringing these youths into a supernatural murder investigation, he knew he was going to become quite fond of them. And it was true, Dean was now a fellow werewolf; perhaps they’d even become packmates one day. But Sam… he sighed. He wished he had someone to turn to for guidance, but there was no one. He was on his own.  
  
“So Cas, we have to go, but come see us tomorrow or whatever. Drop by after school, or... I dunno something.” Dean tried to pass it off as nonchalant, scratching the back of his head and looking away, but Sam knew differently.  
  
And so did Cas, apparently, who replied, “I will see what I can do.” smiling despite himself.  
  
“Dude, don’t you have lacrosse tryouts tomorrow?” Sam interjected.  
  
“Sammy, I just found out that I’m a freaking werewolf. I have super senses, better reflexes, super speed, and who knows what else. Yeah, I could be king of the field, but wouldn’t it be a little obvious that something was up? Plus, we've got a killer to catch. That’s way more interesting than running up and down a field catching balls with netted sticks.”  
  
“You forgot increased strength.” Cas added. “And being increasingly violent on the full moon- which is coming up, by the way. I will have to tie you up for that, and every subsequent one until you find your anchor. Not joining the team is probably the best decision.”  
  
“Wow. Kinky. Didn't know I’d be signing up for that when I got the bite. Might have done it sooner.” Dean joked, winking at Cas, who only stared at him blankly.  
  
“You did not… there was no… it is not…” he floundered, then caught the look on Dean and Sam’s faces. “Oh. Joke. Ha ha.”  
  
“Oh, don’t be such a sourwolf.” Dean laughed. “I am going to have so much fun with you. Sarcasm is pretty much my middle name.”  
  
“I look forward to it.” Cas replied dryly.


	5. Echoes of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Cas, and Crowley, oh my!

Cas gave them a ride back to the jeep, and the drive back home was a weary silence as both brothers processed what had just happened.  
  
As they walked up to their front door, Dean could smell the bundle of rage that was their father awaiting their return. Upon their entry John unleashed his fury over the fact that the brothers had lied to him. Dean took it, Sam keeping a wary eye on his brother, ready to step in if Dean started wolfing out. They were fine until John brought Mary into it, and as Dean’s eyes started to glint gold Sam hustled him up to his room. As Dean drifted off to sleep that night, he listened to the heartbeats of the deer in the woods behind their house.  
  
The next day was only slightly less eventful.  
  
It started off normal, they went to school, and Sam was invited to go to a party with the beautiful Allison. Dean let Coach Balthazar know that he wasn’t trying out for lacrosse that year. He acted shocked, asking him why, telling him that he was definitely good enough to get into first line this year. Dean suspected that he just wanted to upstage their rival schools with the amount of players he could field. Michael took it as a weakness and heckled him incessantly- the only thing that kept Dean from losing control was Sammy, who started muttering at Dean to keep his cool, which with his super-hearing he could of course pick up on. Focusing inwards, he listened to his heart until the beating slowed back to a normal rate.  
  
As Dean headed out to the parking lot after school, Sam having decided to hang with Allison, Gabe, Michael and Lydia, he saw a familiar figure leaning against his just as familiar Camero. And this very familiar figure was being scrutinized by every single teen heading out to their vehicle- which was pretty much the entire student body.  
  
“Cas, you do realize that you’re going to be the talk of the town by days end, right?” he asked, coming to stand next to him, his familiar scent washing over Dean and causing him to relax muscles that he hadn’t realized he was holding tense.  
  
“Get in the car.” Cas replied simply, turning and walking over to the driver’s side door.  
  
“Cas, I get all tingly when you take control like that.” Dean snarked, earning himself a raised eyebrow in what was obviously the older Were’s version of the patented Sammy Winchester bitchface. Sighing, he opened the passenger door and got in, taking a moment to regard the leather interior that he had been too overwhelmed to study yesterday with an appreciative gaze, and breathing in the combined scents of leather, oil, and Cas. Bringing himself back to the present, he turned back to Cas just as they turned out of the lot and onto the main road. “I can’t stay out too late.” He said with a sigh of regret. “My dad ripped me and Sammy a new one for lying to him about being in the woods. His shift ends at five tonight, and if I’m not there when he gets home, there will be hell to pay.”  
  
“I can work with that for now, but the full moon is in three days.” Replied Cas, steering them onto the highway. “You are going to have to get out somehow, or you will not like the consequences.”  
  
“I know.” Dean sighed, looking out the window at the passing trees. “I’ll have to sneak out or something.” The next few minutes passed in silence, and they turned from the highway onto a gravel road. As the minutes stretched on, Dean searched for something to say.  
  
“So, you said that your father is the town sheriff?” the awkward question startled Dean out of his thoughts, causing him to look back at the blue-eyed man sitting next to him, and he suddenly realized that he had no idea exactly how old his new… friend?... was. He acted so mature most of the time, but other times he just seemed so… innocent. Inexperienced. Then Dean realized that he was sitting here, internalizing, while Castiel was waiting for an answer.  
  
“Y… yeah. Has been for years.” He replied hurriedly. “It was a couple years after mom died. He fell apart, at first, but after a year he pulled himself together and threw himself into his work. He’s not the carefree, doting dad he was before she died, but he’s not the drunken wretch he was directly after either, so Sammy and I are willing to deal with a couple harsh rules if it means I don’t have to work a second job after school.” Dean stopped himself there, horrified that he would reveal so much to someone he had only met yesterday. But when he looked over at Cas to see his reaction to Dean’s information dump, his blue eyes were full of understanding. Not pity or revulsion, which were the two reactions that most every other person had when they learned his story. Figures though- Castiel’s story was ten times more traumatic than his would ever be. It wasn’t like every family member he’d ever loved had died. Speaking of Cas… “How old are you?” he wondered out loud.  
  
“Nineteen.” Replied Cas. “Though I do not see how that is relevant to anything.”  
  
“Just seeing how much I can tease you about being older than me.” He joked, decidedly not thinking about his depressing past. “Admittedly, not much. So I’ll just have to ironically call you an old fogey.”  
  
“I am barely two years older than you. I do not understand how that is grounds for me to be ‘old’.” They were pulling up behind the house now, and Cas parked them out of sight from the front drive just like he had been yesterday. “Considering your time constraints, today I will teach you the effects of various plants on our abilities and constitution for a short while, and then push you into trees for the rest of the time we have.” Cas remarked as they got out of the Camero and stepped over the blackened remains of the kitchen wall.  
  
“I knew you had a sense of humor.” was Dean’s only response as he followed Cas into the dining room where they had talked yesterday, the bags of Cas’s stuff shifted around but still full. It may be an odd sense of humor, he thought to himself, but I can work with that.  
  
Around twenty minutes in, Cas’s lecture about the various subspecies of the wolfsbane plant -also known as aconitum, if you’re feeling a bit Latin- was interrupted by the sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway in front of the house.  
  
“Stay in here.” Cas ordered gruffly. “Feel free to listen, but keep yourself out of sight.”  
  
“Aw, come on man! I’m curious!” Cas silenced him with a look and headed out the door, leaving Dean to simmer in his own indignation.  
  
***  
  
As Cas walked out of what used to be his family’s dining room, he hoped that Dean would do as he asked. He may not be an alpha, but if he was going to take Dean under his wing, Dean would have to get used to taking orders. Turning his attention to the SUV now slowing to a stop, he stood silently outside his family home, waiting for the driver to make the first move.  
  
“Nice little place you’ve got here.” The strange man said as he clambered out of the vehicle, and as he turned, Cas saw his clothes tighten around the shape of a gun in his waistband. His breath caught in his throat. “Too bad it burned down ten years ago...” The man continued, and two others previously hidden by the tinted windows emerged from the silver car. “It truly was a magnificent piece of real estate.” Cas heard Dean start to move around in the house, and he hurriedly ducked his head and started whispering.  
  
“Dean, do not under any circumstances come out here. Stay hidden, and stay alert. You do not want to be seen by these people.” Because he would bet his car that these were hunters, probably from the same family that had ended his. And he had a nice car.  
  
“Whispering to your sister?” Asked the man. He had a rough, low voice, and the hint of an English accent. “We’d heard rumours of dear little Anna poking around town a few days ago, but sadly didn't arrive until late last night. Might we see the girl?”  
  
Cas simply stood, keeping his emotions tied down. This hunter was lucky that he had unwittingly given himself an alibi for Anna’s murder, or Cas would be gearing up to take it out of his hide.  
  
“Oh but where are my manners!” exclaimed the man, breaking Castiel’s contemplation. “You can call me Crowley. Crowley Argent. From my knowledge of your family before they passed in that dreadful accident, I would guess that you are Castiel.”


	6. Rain Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley leaves. Cas and Dean talk. Dean and Sam talk.

“She’s dead.” Replied Cas, answering Crowley’s earlier question.  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“Annael. She was killed in the woods. The police found her two days ago.”  
  
Castiel watched silently as Crowley visibly backpedaled from what he had been about to say.  
  
“The… the body.” He stammered, struggling to regain his composure. “That was her. I… I’m sorry for your loss. I would like to point out again that we did not arrive until late last night, and are completely innocent in the matter. However, we are willing to help in the… eradication, per se, of any and all parties involved if they will also be endangering human lives. As you well know. Until the point where that becomes a reality, it is a were problem. We’ll just… leave you to it then. You know the rules.” And with that, he turned and walked back to his car, signaling the other two to do the same.  
  
As they left, Cas let out a breath he hadn't realized he’d been holding. At least these hunters seemed to hold by the code, though the name Argent was what the murderer had gone by as well. And they didn't know about Dean, which was all for the best. He had been bitten, and they would probably leap to the incorrect conclusion that he had done it- even though the hunters knew enough about werewolves to know that betas and omegas had an infinitesimally small chance of turning a person without killing them. Speaking of Dean… he thought to himself, heading back to the house…  
  
***  
  
Dean hissed to himself as he listened to the careless remarks that the stranger made over Castiel’s dead sister. He silently hoped that Cas was better at holding it together than he was, because he would have probably given the guy a bloody nose by this point. He tuned back in to the conversation just in time to catch the guy’s name.  
  
“You can call me Crowley. Crowley Argent.”  
  
Argent… where had he heard that name before? It rang a bell, and he spent the next few minutes only half paying attention to the rest of the exchange as he wrestled with his memories. He had heard it spoken, and recently too… augh. If only he hadn’t spent the last two days being bombarded by a whirlwind of crazy, he might actually be able to puzzle this out. Leaving a mental tab on the name Argent, he listened to Crowley’s ominous finishing line “You know the rules.”  
  
As the slamming of car doors and revving of an engine signaled their exit, he heard Cas start towards the house.  
  
“I suppose you have some questions.” The older werewolf remarked as he closed the door behind him. Their eyes met as Dean opened his mouth to reply, and the words caught in his throat. Time seemed to stop for a moment as he contemplated the blueness of Cas’ eyes. Of course, as soon as he realized what he was doing, Dean wrenched his gaze away.  
  
“You read my mind Cas.” He said hurriedly. “I’d like to start with… hmm, let’s just cover all the bases and go with who, what, when, where, why, and how.”  
  
“How very specific.” Cas replied dryly, eyebrow raised. “Shall I just cover the history of the entire planet then?”  
  
“The werewolves will do for now.” Dean smiled impishly, like Sam after he’d been caught pulling a prank.  
  
“Well too bad.” Cas turned his back on Dean, fishing a bottle of water out of one of his packs.  
  
“What? Oh come on dude, that is so not cool. I've kinda got a right to know what’s going on.”  
  
Cas sighed and turned back to Dean. “I didn't say that I wasn't going to tell you what’s going on. But that’s a completely different story than the history of the werewolf. This is the story of the hunter.”  
  
***  
  
“So the hunters were simply created to protect the people of the world from the supernatural?” Sam asked, eyebrow raised. “I expected something a little more… exciting. And less predictable. Like Russian monks or something.” He and Dean were both back at home, on time for their curfew. After rushing through a silent dinner with their dad, they had hurried upstairs so Dean could share his news.  
  
“Well, there were various situations that led up to that point, but… I forget the details. Don’t look at me like that!” Sam had pulled out yet another of his never-ending supply of bitchfaces. “Oh, come on! Cas told me like, five thousand different things today! And then there was the way that hunter was acting. Cabbage Tangent… or something. He just swaggered in, like he owned the place…”  
  
“Cabbage Tangent? And how could you forget the interesting parts of the history? The details are the best part.” Sam pouted, his inner scholar showing.  
  
“Well, as it wasn't relevant to my immediate survival, and the different types of wolfsbane were, I figured I’d save my brain space for that instead.”  
  
“And the name of a hunter that will try to kill you and Castiel both just happened to not make the cut?”  
  
“Aw, come on Sammy- you know I’m no good with names. And at least I know that it’s something along the lines of Crappy Agent.” Though he figured he could take care of himself, he did feel a little sheepish for forgetting the guy’s name. Sammy was right- it would probably be very important.  
  
“They were French, not Russian.” Dean offered. “That’s all I remember. And something about a queen.”  
  
There was a creaking on the stairs, and they heard their father heading up towards them. Dean had been able to hear him the whole time they’d been upstairs, but some of the people in the room didn't have super hearing.  
  
“Don’t you two have school tomorrow?” John asked loudly as he passed by Dean’s room on the way to his own. They looked at the clock, realizing that they had talked well past 9.  
  
That night, Dean’s dreams were of a faceless man chasing him through an endless forest as he desperately searched for Cas.  
  
***  
  
Wednesday came and went with little incident. Classes were attended. Curfews were met. Cas taught Dean more about being a werewolf. Sam spent more time with Allison, Lydia, Mike, and Gabe.  
  
Thursday saw an increase in nerves. Dean was about to go through his first full moon. Sam was about to go to a party.  
  
Friday began with a sunrise the colour of blood.


	7. Tensions Building

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares, breakfast, and a side of gore. Just to make things interesting.

"Cas?" he calls out, looking for his friend. He hears a noise, and walks forwards. He's not quite sure why, but he's at the school. A heavy fog lies over everything.

He turns a corner, and is in front of the busses that stay parked there overnight. He follows a rustling noise to the nearest one, noting the already open door as he takes the couple steps up into the vehicle. Peering into the back, he sees a shadowy figure.

"Cas?" he asks again. The figure looks up suddenly, finally noticing him. It turns towards him, be he's already there, stabbing it in the chest, then ripping its throat out. He feels the blood pouring over his hands, his lips, through his teeth. He wants to scream, to run, to do anything. But he can't move. He digs his nails into his palms in frustration.

And wakes up. He can hear the birds starting their pre-dawn chorus, the grey light just starting to filter through his curtains. But he still feels as though the blood is running over his hands, and hurriedly looks them over, but sees only the quickly healing crescents where his own nails had broken the skin.

Then he hears a rustling at his window. He slips out from under the covers, ready for an attack. As soon as the dark-haired intruder is partway in the window, he grabs them by the neck and slams them into the floor, crushing their windpipe with one arm. And is washed in an all-too familiar scent as he stares into the brilliant blue eyes of Castiel Novak.

"I am sorry for the intrusion." Cas explains as Dean backs off, rubbing his neck where the younger boy had just been pressing. "But I heard you thrashing, and then you called my name. I was... concerned."

"It was a nightmare." Says Dean, sitting down on the bed. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine. But what are you doing here? Are you stalking me or something?"

"It is your first full moon. I am keeping an eye on you." the older boy explains, getting to his feet. "I was not going to say anything so as not to worry you. Too late for that now, I suppose." He turns to leave, heading for the window once more. Dean sighs and grabs his shoulder, turning him.

"You're here now, might as well stay for some breakfast. I know I'm not sleeping anytime soon."

***

When Sam walks into the kitchen at a more decent hour, it's to the smell of fried eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Dean and Cas are both seated at the kitchen table with empty plates in front of them, Dean animatedly telling the story of when he and Sam had found their dad's Playboy mags. Sam smiles at the memory, though the punishment for their escapades had been a little severe. He shrugs off the thought and heads over to the two werewolves.

"Morning." he says, sitting heavily in the chair opposite them. Both of them look up, startled- which he finds surprising.

"Hey Sammy." says Dean, voice cracking a little.

"Good morning, Sam." Castiel's voice is a little calmer, though he had seemed just as startled by Sam's entrance.

"Aren't you guys supposed to have werewolf super-senses or something?" Sam teases, forking a couple of pancakes onto a plate. After pouring on some syrup he takes a bite, only to find they had gone cold. How long had those two been sitting here for?

"I guess we were just caught up in conversation." answers Dean, looking at Cas a little guiltily. "Sorry for keeping you so long, I'm sure you have places to be."

"No, I don't mind." Cas looks into Deans eyes as he speaks, and Dean holds the eye contact for longer than Sam deems normal. Sam shoots his brother an inquiring look, but Dean doesn't even notice. "As I told you earlier, I'll be spending the day keeping an eye on you."

"Right. Making sure I don't do anything wolf-y in public." Dean sighed, scratching the back of his head. "You know, if it would be easier, I could just skip. Dad'll ream me out later, but..."

"Don't be ridiculous. I am perfectly capable of keeping an eye on you from a distance. And I have no lack of confidence on your own skills, at least until dark."

"I wasn't saying you couldn't look out for me Cas, just that it might be easier-"

"Morning kids." All three boys jumped, looking towards the stairs. John Winchester had gone through his entire morning ritual without any of the three noticing a thing, and was now dressed and ready for the delicious smells that had been wafting through the house. His stern eyes fell on the stranger at his table, and he raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

"This is my friend Cas, dad." Dean jerked his thumb at the older boy as he answered the silent question. "I invited him over for breakfast."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Winchester." Cas added, rising and offering his hand. "Castiel Novak."

"Novak?" Murmured John, looking into his piercing blue eyes a moment before taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake. "Not many of you left in these parts." Both brothers winced at the phrasing.

"No, there aren't." Muttered Cas, eyes suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

But it seemed John wasn't willing to just let it drop- he continued firing questions at Cas as he filled himself a plate. But not before dismissing his two sons to prepare for school. Of course, Dean could hear the entire thing no matter where he was in the house.

"Been here long?"

"A few days, sir."

"So little time?"

"Yes sir."

"Any particular reason for returning?"

"Family business." Fairly close to the truth.

"There are other Novaks here, besides yourself?

"Not anymore." Another half-truth.

"You are aware your sister was here?"

Dean heard Castiel's heart stutter, and knew the expression that would be on his face. His father couldn't possibly miss it. 

"Well?" Dean could hear the impatience in his father's voice. Cas was in very deep waters.

Rather than lie, Cas took the more direct route.

"What do you know?" He asked, and Dean could tell Cas was holding himself straight backed and stiff as a board, like a soldier being questioned. Done with his preparations, he slunk back downstairs, wanting to support Cas- if only with his presence. Sam was still in the bathroom, preening over his hair like a bloody girl.

"We recovered half of a corpse in the woods a week ago." His father stated, watching Castiel's eyes, intent on seeing the reaction to his words. Dean watched as Cas allowed the pain he must constantly feel to pour into them, transforming him from stiff soldier to a young man without a family.

"I- I was worried, when she didn't call me after she had arrived. She... how do you know it's her? Her purse was still at the house when I arrived..." Dean had to hand it to him, Cas knew how to play a part. And fish for information. Though if he could tell what Cas was doing...

"We had DNA records of your family since the fire. They matched. Got the confirmation last night." John answered gruffly, keeping a wary eye on him. This was news to Dean. "I'm sorry, after the shock, but I'm going to have to take you to the station for some questions."

"Of course..." Wavered Cas, glancing over at Dean. John turned, noticing his son standing there as well.

"Go on then, Cas." Offered Dean. "I'll talk to you later."

"Keep an eye to your studies, Dean." Replied Cas, the closest he could get to reminding him of the moons dangers today. Dean nodded, and Cas turned and followed the elder Winchester out to his squad car.

John watched the two boys from the corner of his eye, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye.

***

Dean and Sam spoke apprehensively about what would happen next as they drove to the school, both in terms of the investigation and the day. They both doubted Cas's little display of emotion at the house would erase any suspicions that were sure to fall on the older boy concerning his sister's murder. And on top of that, Dean had his first full moon tonight, and Sam had a party with the beautiful and intelligent Allison.

When they got to the school, things only got worse.

"Are... are those police cruisers?" Sam asked, peering through the windshield as they turned into the parking lot.

Dean grunted and parked before focusing his attention on the flashing lights coming from around the side of the school.

"I wonder what they're doing here." He muttered before releasing his seat belt and oping the door, only to be washed in the scent of recently spilled blood. "Shit."

"What is it?" He heard Sammy call faintly, but he was already running towards the scene, fearing he knew exactly what he was going to find.

He arrived just in time to see a body bag lifted from the back of a bus, through the emergency exit hatch. The scent of blood was thick in the air, it's metallic tang coating his throat and tongue, drowning him in it's rich and tangy flavour. He was immediately plunged vividly into his nightmare from this morning, stalking his prey, who to his mind had been Cas, to this very bus.

He felt nauseous.

"Dean?"

He was gonna be sick.

"Dean, are you alright?"

Turning and sprinting away, he found the nearest trash bin, and the breakfast that had been so lovely this morning all came up again. When it was all gone, he heaved emptily, wishing to the core of his being that he could force this monster inside of him to relinquish it's grasp and force itself out. His throat certainly felt like it had- though, of course, he could already feel it healing.

It itched.

That faint twinge of annoyance was enough to bring him back to the present, so he finally noticed Sammy, worriedly staring at him, watching for some sign his brother was back in this world.

"Hiya Sammy." he muttered, weakly placing a lopsided smirk across his features, but he knew it looked forced.

"Dean..." his brother started, but he held up a hand.

"It's not a werewolf thing. Well, it is a werewolf thing, but it's not about the full moon. Well, maybe it is, but it's not me wolfing out, at least, so you can calm down." He croaked for the first few words, but his healing throat was back to normal by the time he finished speaking.

"Dean, you need to go find Cas-"

"I can't!" snapped Dean, foul thoughts still swimming through his mind. "I can't and it's all my own fucking fault."

"Dean, you can't have known that inviting him to breakfast, would... oh yeah, how did you invite him to breakfast? Doesn't he not have a cellphone? Or any means of contact besides physical presence?"

"He was already stalking me this morning, full-moon puppy-sitting duty and all. I had a nightmare. He heard me thrashing about. Came to check it out. I told him to stay and eat, since he was there already."

"I thought you didn't have nightmares anymore." Sam's eyes were soft now, recalling many nights in the past where his brother had woken both of them with his screams, his body covered in sweat from his exertions in fighting off his nightmares. Almost every night since their mother had passed away, until their first year of high school, he had woken. But he never told Sam what he dreamed of.

"This one was different." Dean replied simply, avoiding giving a full answer to his brother's question. He wasn't going to tell him that he still battled his nightly demons at least once or twice a week, that he had just learned how to keep still and bear it through the night. It would only worry his brother, and it wasn't as if there were something he could do.

"Different?"

"Don't worry about me, Sammy. I'll be fine. Let's head to class." And with that, he shouldered past his well-meaning protector, dark ideas swirling through his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry, guys, both for the wait, and for the lack of the rest of the day of the full moon. But so many things happen this day, I just have to split it in two.
> 
> I also want to get to sleep, and I know I won't be able to do that until I share at least part of the story with all of you. So here you go!


	8. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean deals, then goes to see Cas. It's a good pastime. Also, an old enemy returns.

"Good morning boys." called Ellen as the two of them entered her classroom once more. Dean was still in his own head, so he didn't even notice her greeting, but Sam waved weakly before taking his seat. He was still worried about his brother, and to add to it he had a party to go to tonight. He wasn't so much worried about the party as he was worried about Allison. She was beautiful, and he was a nerd. A gangly nerd who babbled out all sorts of things when he was nervous, and had a knack for trouble. Ugh. He dropped his head onto his desk, running his hands through his hair in frustration. What was he going to do?  
  
"Hey Sam!" Her arrival startled him out of the slight panic he had been sinking into, and he smiled at her thankfully before returning the greeting.  
  
"Hey Allison. Excited for tonight?" He asked as she took a seat next to him.  
  
"I hope it's still on! Did you hear about what happened in the parking lot?" She asked, eyes wide.  
  
"We saw them taking away the body. I think it freaked out Dean a little." Sam explained softly, giving his brother an excuse to seem a little out of it today. And it's not like it wasn't true. Allison's eyes softened a little as she glanced over at Dean, and she nodded.  
  
"It's enough to mess anyone up, knowing that someone's been killed at your school. And wasn't there another death just recently, in the woods?"  
  
"Yeah, there was." Sam replied, and his brain continued the thought. The one in the woods, this one... there was an awful lot of blood spatter on the bus windows- it must have been pretty brutal. Are the two connected? He mused. Maybe that's why Dean freaked out so much, he somehow sensed the werewolf connection. The one that bit him has to have been the one that killed Anna and the guy on the bus...  
  
"...huh Sam?" he just caught the last of what Allison had said.  
  
"Sorry, what was that?"  
  
"I was saying, I don't think it's just Dean who was a little freaked out, huh Sam? You've gone a little pale- are you okay?"  
  
"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about things, you know?" Allison raised an eyebrow at the vague response, but seemed to accept it.  
  
"Of course. Anyways, what do-" She started to ask, but was interrupted by the arrival of Lydia.  
  
"Hey Sam. Do you know anything about the dead guy?" Lydia had never been one to dance around the subject, but this was a little blunt, even for her.  
  
"Oh hi Lydia, and a good morning to you too. Oh, yeah, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking! I'm just thrilled that you've deigned to speak to such a lowly creature as I. What would your boyfriend think-" Lydia rolled her eyes at his sarcastic response, obviously annoyed by it, and his avoidance of the question.  
  
"Sam, do you know something, or don't you?" She asked again, leaning on his desk with both arms.  
  
"Well, I'm flattered you thought to ask me, but why would I know any more than you?" Sam retorted, playing dumb.  
  
"Because your dad's the sheriff, duh!" He could see her patience starting to slip, but couldn't resist pushing her just a little farther.  
  
"I'm just his kid! It's not like he tells me anything!"  
  
"And you're trying to tell me that the biggest trouble maker this school has ever seen doesn't snoop in his dad's work?" She snapped, out of patience at last.  
  
"Second biggest. I'm pretty sure Gabe wins in that department. And well, no, but this was just this morning. There hasn't been enough time for me to snoop. And dad wasn't even called in for this, he's too busy with-" he cut himself off.  
  
"With what?" Lydia's interest was piqued now, and Sam cursed himself. Of course she would realize that it would take an awful big something to distract the Sheriff from a murder at the high school.  
  
"Never mind. If it turns into anything, you'll hear about it. If not, I will be maligning an innocent citizen." He quickly replied, shutting down her curiosity as much as possible in an attempt to protect Castiel. She pouted, but otherwise dropped it. Instead, she turned to Allison.  
  
"Well, I hope you're still coming to the party tonight! It'll be a great way for you to make new friends here, and perfect for shaking off this horrible introduction to our town! Let us show you how Beacon Hills really does things!"  
  
"Don't worry, I'll be there!" replied Allison, laughing.  
  
"Well, I'm not going, so could you please vamoose, princess? You're in my light." Dean snarked, apparently deigning the real world with his presence once more. Albeit in a grumpy mood.  
  
"No one wanted you there anyways." Replied Lydia, sticking her nose up in the air and marching off.  
  
"Seriously Sammy, I don't know how you put up with that girl."  
  
"She grows on you." Sighed Sam, used to Dean's dislike of Lydia.  
  
"Yeah, like a fatal disease."  
  
Sam would have replied, but Ellen chose that moment to call the class to order, first giving the school's formal statement to the students about the murder. They weren't 100% sure who it was yet, but one of the bus drivers had been missing since last night. So chances were good it was him. There wasn't that much time to talk about things with Dean for the rest of class, and though Sam turned to him as soon as the bell rang, he only saw his older brother's retreating back as he hurried from the room. So he spent the walk to their next class chatting with Allison, and when they arrived, Dean was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Sam hoped he had gone to find Cas.  
  
***  
  
That class was the worst one Dean had ever had to sit through. He didn't hear a word that came out of Ellen's mouth, didn't take a single note off the board. Though the incident with the bus had shaken him up pretty bad, he had calmed a little by the time they were in the classroom. Well, calm wasn't really the word for it, he supposed. He just had this feeling he couldn't shake, which he supposed was the call of the moon or some hippie bullshit like that. All he knew is he wanted to be near Cas. He needed it. It was all he could think about- his pack. Which apparently was Cas now.  
  
So as soon as class was over, Dean left. He didn't want to be seen by his father and sent back to school, so he ran through the woods to Cas's house to wait for him there, leaving a clear scent trail from the school so Cas could follow if he looked for Dean there.  
  
Apparently Cas had run to Deans house that morning, because his Camero was parked behind the burnt out shell of the Novak house as per usual. Knowing where Cas hid the keys, Dean unlocked it and curled up in the backseat, hoping the annoyance of the full moon wouldn't get too bad before Cas returned.  
  
He slowly began to calm, breathing in the warm smell of the leather interior, gasoline, and Cas. Within a few minutes he was asleep.  
  
***  
  
Dean jumped as he woke to a tapping sound on the window. Cas raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I feel almost bad waking you, as you should be shaking out of your bones by this point." he commented dryly as Dean clambered out of the vehicle.  
  
"I was getting pretty antsy." Dean admitted, thinking back to his first class. "But as soon as I was in your car man, I dunno, it just went away. Must be the nice leather interiors or something, but that car is magic."  
  
Cas frowned a little at that, the crease between his brows deepening in thought, but he made no comment, so Dean didn't push it. They walked into the house, Dean looking up as the ceiling creaked dangerously.  
  
“Dude, this place is gonna fall on you one day. I mean, you’ll probably survive it, but still…”  
  
“It’s fine Dean.”  
  
“Come on man, at least get a hotel room or something.”  
  
“I’ll consider it.”  
  
Dean sighed, knowing already that Cas wasn't budging on it. Not yet, anyways. Dean planned to get Sammy on the case, and after that Cas wouldn't have a chance. But for now he would let it go.  
  
“So, what’s the plan? Stay up with me all night to make sure I don’t kill anyone?” He asked instead, following Cas into the dining room. Cas lifted a heavy-looking bag off of his pile in the corner.  
  
“Partially.” Cas replied, dropping the bag on the table with a clank. He then opened the bag, and Dean swallowed. Inside was a lot of chains, a collar, and arm and leg cuffs.  
  
“Didn't know you had it in you, Cas.” He joked, starting to feel a little awkward. Cas just raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
“What did you expect? You are going to want to kill on every full moon until you gain control by finding your anchor. I am not going to risk the townspeople’s lives by letting you stay free.” Cas deadpanned, laying the chains out on the table.  
  
“Yeah man, I totally get that. It’s just a little… It’s a little…” Dean trailed off, not sure how to finish.  
  
“You will get used to it.”  
  
“Yeah, sure.” He muttered, knowing full well that Cas could have heard him from a mile away, let alone the meter they were actually separated by. “So… we doing this now, or…?”  
  
“No, you should be fine until nightfall. I just want to double check the links, make sure there are no defects.”  
  
“Don’t want me running loose. Probably bad for- what was that?” Dean asked, turning his head to catch the sound he had picked out as out of place.  
  
“Someone has turned onto the driveway.” Cas replied, quickly sweeping the chains back into their bag and tossing it back into his pile. “Head out into the trees and hide. You can listen, but do not show yourself. Even if they hurt me. I will call for you if I need help.”  
  
Dean snorted at being given orders again, but he understood Cas well enough by now to know when he had made up his mind on something. Besides, the less people- especially hunters- that knew about him hanging around Cas, the better. He knew that- it was simple tactics. Let the enemy think you’re weaker than you actually are so when you strike, they don’t expect it to be twice as hard. Understanding the logic didn't have to mean liking it. He was leaving his pack behind to face an unknown danger, alone. Because that’s what Cas was now, he was pack. And if he expected Dean to stay put if he got hurt… Dean hissed a curse and walked out the back of the house, darting through the trees to a good hiding spot near the house.  
  
Dean crouched down under some ferns, the dappled light coming through the trees heating his back comfortably as he rested his hands in the cool underbrush. He had positioned himself so he could see part of the driveway in front of the house, and with his lupine hearing he would definitely pick up everything said by Cas and whomever was on their way.  
  
A black SUV pulled up and stopped. The windows were tinted, and muffled bass thrummed through the vehicle- loud enough that Dean could feel the vibrations sinking into the forest floor. It quickly cut out, and the driver’s side door popped open. Dean had just enough time to see a heeled boot hit the gravel before he heard Cas make a strangled sound then frantically whisper-  
  
“Dean, don’t you dare set one foot within this building while she is here. This is Lilith Argent. She is the one who trapped my family in this house and burned them alive. If she knows you’re a wolf there’s no… she’s a monster Dean. Don’t let her catch your scent.” Dean stiffened the moment Cas’s voice hit him. There was so much pain, so much fear in that voice. His packmate was hurting.  
  
It took every ounce of self control he had not to run over to Cas right that moment and pull him close, wrap him in his arms and cover the scent of fear with-  
  
What the fuck, wolf brain? Was that even normal? He should ask Sam later. Hopefully Sam would know why he suddenly wanted his new werewolf guide and friend to smell like him- this was way too awkward to ask Cas himself. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe it was a totally normal wolf thing. He didn't even know.  
  
He focused his brain on the present, and heard Lilith reach the front door. She had started talking now, and Dean’s hackles raised at her teasing voice.  
  
“Here, little wolfie! Little puppy dog! Don’t you want to come out and play? I have a nice toy for you!” Dean heard a snap, and then a faint humming. It reminded him of a lightsaber- did she have a cattle prod with her? Something high voltage, at least. He growled quietly in his throat.  
  
“Get out.”  
  
Castiel’s voice was cold and menacing, a world of difference lay between this tone and the one of a few seconds ago when he told Dean who she was.  
  
“Aww, the little doggie’s come out to play. I should have brought you a bone as a reward for such good behavior, but I didn't take the time to stop by the family graves. So many corpses to choose from, so little time…” Cas snarled, and Dean heard the floorboards creak as Castiel moved closer to Lilith, probably hoping to seem intimidating. But Dean could already see that wouldn't work. She was nine shades of crazy, each worse than the next.  
  
“Out. Now.” Dean knew Cas had to be getting closer to arms reach, and Lilith wasn't backing up. In fact, she was adjusting her stance, the floor’s creaks giving her away. Then Dean remembered the humming.  
  
“Cas, get out of there!” he hissed, hoping Cas was listening. “It’s a trap! Abort mission! Head for the hills!”  
  
Then he heard a swish of cloth, a gasp, and Cas yelling in pain.  
  
“Fuck.” Dean hissed, and started to move to the house.  
  
“No!” Cried Cas, frantically. “Don’t come any closer!” Dean stilled, a war raging between his instincts and his logic.  
  
“What, is the puppy going to beg now? Beg for mercy?” Lilith laughed, walking towards where Cas must have fallen. “Please, beg a little more. It’ll be like old days, only you hate me and everyone you love is dead.”  
  
“You psychotic bitch.” Dean felt the steel in Cas’s words, and somehow knew he had a plan. He wrestled his instinct to help back a little, and hid himself in the trees once more.  
  
“You shouldn't go around calling names, mutt. Especially ones that hit so close to home.” The venom in Lilith’s voice was apparent now that she wasn't using cutesy pet names- she was dropping the act. Which probably made her more dangerous.  
  
“This place has suffered so much.” Dean heard the regret in Castiel’s voice, even as he heard the older werewolf rip something loose from the house. Apparently it was important, because some of the roof came down.  
  
Cas darted out the back, and Lilith went stumbling out the front door, coughing out dust and ash. Cas hid himself in the trees like Dean, and she was left with nothing but silent forest to look out at, anger streaming from her very pores and cloying the air with its musky aroma.  
  
“You can’t hide forever, Novak. Not from me, not from us. We’ll find you, and when we do, you are going to regret this little stunt. I’ll make sure of it.”  
  
And with that she clambered back into the driver’s seat, favoring her left arm as she pulled the door shut.  
  
As she drove away, Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he’d been holding.  
  
He heard a rustling, then a twig snap, and then he had an armful of Castiel. A Castiel that was very eagerly burying his face in Dean’s neck- eagerly enough he’s probably have stubble burn later.  
  
“Cas, what are you-”  
  
“Sorry.” Cas pulled back a little, but not so far that they weren't touching. “It’s a wolf thing… they’re very… tactile.”  
  
“Tactile.” Dean looked at him sourly. Not that he wasn't pleased, his inner wolf was doing somersaults, or whatever the wolf equivalent was. Wagging it’s tail? Cas backed up a little farther now, looking down.  
  
“I know it’s not a usual human thing, and if it is going to cause discomfort, or-“  
  
“Oh, get over here. I’m just not used to the attention. My wolf, or whatever, gets exactly what you’re doing, man. It just takes a little longer for the human in me to catch up.” Dean pulled him back into a hug, and took a deep breath. And then smelled him. And then proceeded to bury his nose into the other Were’s shoulder. “You smell weird.” He informed Cas.  
  
“Probably some mix of the pain, the healing, the emotions, and her.” Cas mumbled into Dean, who was engulfed by the taller teen’s embrace.  
  
“I don’t like it. Smell like you again.” Cas laughed at Dean’s grumpy tone, and Dean felt muscles Cas must have been holding tense since they heard the car on the gravel begin to ease.  
  
“And what do I smell like normally, Dean?” Dean rolled his eyes at the way Cas turned this into another exercise, and decided to give the simple answer.  
  
“You smell like pack.”  
  
Cas teared up a little, and hugged Dean a little tighter.  
  
He hadn't had a pack for far too long.


	9. Bad Moon Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean deals with the moon. Sam goes to a party.

They were startled back into the world by a squirrel deciding it had had enough of their presence in its territory. Its angry chitters followed them back to the house, where Dean got a good look at the destruction Cas had managed to inflict. It seemed he had snapped a support beam that had been mostly burnt through already- making Dean question the stability of the rest of the house. He knew being a werewolf made you stronger than normal people, but a new, sturdier house would be much harder to bring down accidentally- an event he did not want his new friend to bring on himself. This place was a deathtrap waiting to happen.  
  
“Cas, you need to find a new place. This one is going to come down on your head one day, and sooner more likely than later.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Cas sighed, looking around his old family home. “I just… there’s so many memories here, Dean.”  
  
“I know, buddy. I know." He paused, taking a look at Cas, and decided to let it go for now- not that he didn't plan on forcing the issue at a later date, mind you. "Now, I’m guessing a few of those things in the living room are important. We gonna clear out this mess or what?”  
  
After moving most of the burnt house litter out of the way, the two took a short run to the nearby creek to wash off the plaster dust and ash. On the return walk, Dean could feel the itch of the full moon returning- the time with Cas and the adrenaline of Lilith’s appearance having kept it at bay until then. Noticing Dean fidgeting, Cas shoved him into a run.  
  
“You’ll feel better after some exercise. 5 laps, lets go.”  
  
Dean looked at him incredulously, but kept pace.  
  
“Five laps of what?” He asked.  
  
“The forest.”  
  
***  
  
To be fair to Cas, it worked. For a while a least. By the third lap he was ready to stop, but Cas kept him going. The fourth lap was rough. He could barely remember the fifth, he was so tired. He had been relying simply on werewolf senses and reflexes to get him through- which, now that he thought on it, might have been the whole point.  
  
But now the sun had set, and the moon was out, and he was chained in the burnt out basement of the Novak house.  
  
It had started like an itch, like it had earlier, but that itch started to burn. As it forced him to transform, he could feel the features of his face shifting, canines extending, claws forming on his hands. He wanted blood, the hunt, the kill. He strained against the chains, fighting the captivity, yanking until he broke his own skin. He could smell blood. The hunt, the hunt, the hunt. He snarled. Something cold and wet hit his face. Water. This jarred him a little, enough for him to hear Cas moving away, somewhere else in the room. It gave him a little clarity, pulled him back to himself for a while. He curled in on himself, sitting down on the floor and holding himself together through sheer will. At first he managed to hold the pain in, but as it intensified, he let out the occasional whimper, until it was too much again even for him.  
  
“This... Please Cas. Please, it hurts like a fucking bitch. How do you do it, how do you even- agh!” He bit down. Right through his bottom lip.  
  
***  
  
Castiel looked on in sympathy from his seat on some rubble in the corner of the room. His arm made an aborted move to comfort Dean, but the younger wolf was in too much pain to notice. Remembering his family keeping close in his early transformations, Cas moved to sit beside Dean. He needed to do something but he was unsure how to start. He rubbed his temples, fighting back a headache. His mother had been so much better at this, at talking him through his first transition. Why couldn't she be here now, or Anna or anyone at all but him? He didn't do the whole people thing, like the rest of his family had been so good at. How could he possibly be the best one to talk a kid through the unimaginable amount of pain he could smell pouring off of the teen? But he wasn't, he realized. He was just the only one. Dean needed him. He couldn't fall apart now.  
  
“I…” He trailed off, doubting his ability to coach another through what should have been an Alpha’s job. But he was all Dean had, he reminded himself, and a poor teacher was better than none at all. “There will be someone, or something, in your life, that can keep you sustained. Keep you grounded mentally. This is your anchor.” Dean’s whimpers had subsided, so Cas kept talking. “Mine used to be my family, before the... before.” He stopped, licking his dry lips.  
  
“What happened to you? Losing your anchor like that?” Dean asked quietly, clearly not wanting to force Cas, but still curious. Focusing on someone else seemed to help with the pain, anyways.  
  
“What you are going through now, only worse... agonizingly worse.” Cas said with finality, and Dean didn’t ask further. He thought this was bad enough. After a long pause, Cas continued speaking. “After some time, I was able to find a new anchor to focus on. It is not as powerful as family, but… I use my anger towards the hunters. It's... not perfect. Anger is volatile, easy to gain but easy to lose. Possibly not the best idea, using it, but… it works for now.” Only, for the past several hours he's been far more focused on Dean than on his anger. And yet here he was, still human, still anchored. Interesting.  
  
***  
  
Dean hardly noticed the pain now, focused as he was on Cas. He noticed now, the tightness around the other werewolf’s beautiful blue eyes; they were a deep sapphire in the near-dark, and they held a depth of emotion usually absent from people in his and Dean's age range. He noticed a smell, sharp and tangy; it had to be pain, it smelled like how it felt. He hadn’t even realized pain had a smell, he's been too busy dealing with the actual pain itself to notice a scent for it earlier. Was it his own? No, this was not coming from himself. Cas must be hurting too, just better at hiding it. Or maybe Dean's own nose was just so full of his own scents that he didn't notice till now. It had taken the other boy being right next to him for Dean to catch even a whiff of his emotions. He studied his new friend's face, looking for something that might tell him what was going on in Cas' head. He even tried to sniff it out, but the massive cocktail of smells that poured into his nose were too complicated for him to sort out anything nuanced. It was like listening to someone speak a language you don't know and trying to tell what they're saying; you can get the gist from the tone of voice they use a maybe a word or two you've heard before, but mostly it's just noise. Another wave of pain-scent rolled off of Cas. Dean decided to go for the direct approach.  
  
“Cas, you’re… are you okay?” Dean asked, bring his hand up to cup the other boy’s face only to be stopped by the chains holding him in place. Which reminded him of the excruciating pain that was supposed to be driving him into a killing rage. Which he wasn’t currently experiencing. Huh. Oh. OH.  
  
“Am I okay? How are you not-” Cas stopped, brow creasing. Dean could almost see the gears turning. “Dean, I’m... I must be your anchor.”  
  
“Yeah, just figured that out, thanks.”  
  
“How am I your anchor? You hardly even know me.”  
  
Dean laughs. “And yet, here we are.”  
  
“And yet.” Cas replies, a hint of tenderness in his voice. Dean shifts, and they both hear the metal of his chains clinking.  
  
“So, am I gonna need these anymore, or…?” He hid the hopefulness he felt behind his usual sardonic tone of voice, but really, the chains were not at all comfy. He would be glad to be rid of them.  
  
“Keep them for tonight, just in case, but I doubt they will be needed in the future.” Dean felt Cas shift, and then the dark-haired boy stood, careful not to trip over Dean's sprawled legs. “You... are probably thirsty. I will be back momentarily.”  
  
Dean watched Cas walk away, and could instantly feel the distance between them.  
  
***  
  
There was loud music pouring out along the street where Allison and Sam walked, enjoying the afterglow of a good party. The brown-haired girl was smiling and laughing at a joke Sam had made while he smiled dopily back at her. He felt good, and hoped she did as well. He’d never had that much luck with girls, but with any luck at all, that was about to change.  
  
“But seriously, that was so much fun! Thanks for taking me!” She said earnestly, grabbing his hand and smiling widely. Sam felt his heart stutter.  
  
“It was no big deal really, and I don’t think that me walking you there counts as taking you.” Sam laughed.  
  
“Of course it does! Don’t be silly!” Allison slapped him lightly on the arm to accentuate her feelings on the matter. They turned onto her street; Sam could see her porch-light still on at the end of the block.  
  
“I just feel bad, normally I could have driven you.” He said, desperate to eke out every moment he could in her presence. And they both walked slower when they were talking.  
  
“Normally? What’s different now?” Allison asked, glancing at him curiously.  
  
“Well, I’m technically grounded.” She laughed again at that, and he smiled. “No seriously! I had to sneak out-”  
  
“How brave of you, coming to get me in spite of all odds. My hero!” Allison chuckled, and they turned up her driveway.  
  
“I mean, if you’re looking for a hero-” She laughed again. “-you should really talk to my brother. He’s the one with the saving people thing.” They walked up the steps to her front door.  
  
“I’m not looking for your brother.” She stopped walking, and he stopped with her. “I’m looking for you, Sam.” Allison looked up at him, her dark eyes reflecting the full moon, until he moved closer and blocked its reflection. “I… would kiss you now, but I’m gonna need some help. You’re all the way up there, and-”  
  
He kissed her. Their mouths were probably stale and his lips he knew to be rough and dry but all he knew was happiness and the faint taste of sunshine and peppermint.  
  
“Allison, I see you’ve made a new friend. Might you introduce us darling?” A European drawl came from the doorway.  
  
“Dad!” Allison exclaimed, jumping back from an equally startled Sam. A porch light flicked on and Sam could see a man standing in the doorway, one hand moving back to his side from the switch inside the house. The man in question was quite a bit shorter than Sam, with salt and pepper hair cropped short and stubble on his chin. He was well dressed, though slightly rounded from many years of good drinking and little exercise.  
  
“I do apologize love, I didn’t mean to ruin your moment. I just heard voices so I went to open the door and, well, there you were.” Allison’s father raised an eyebrow. “I do believe I’m waiting on an introduction, love.”  
  
“Oh, umm, dad, this is Sam. Sam, this is my dad.”  
  
“Mr. Argent, a pleasure.” Sam said stiffly, holding out a hand.  
  
“Sam, please, just call me Crowley.” He replied, taking Sam’s proffered hand and shaking it firmly.  
  
“Dad, can you, like, give us a moment?” Allison asked petulantly. “He’s just leaving.”  
  
“Come on, love, I’d like to get to know him a bit. Why don’t you come in, have a cuppa, talk a bit.” He aimed the request to Sam.  
  
“I’m sorry sir-”  
  
“Crowley.” The man corrected.  
  
“Crowley. But I need to get home. Curfews, you know.”  
  
“Ah, yes. I thank you, for getting Allison home on time. I still want that talk, but I can be patient. Another time.”  
  
“Another time.” Sam agreed. “Have a good night, s- Crowley.”  
  
“Good night, Sam. Allison?” Crowley raised an eyebrow at his daughter and gestured into their home.  
  
“Dad, can’t I-“ She stopped herself at the look on his face. “Goodnight Sam.” She said dejectedly, before entering the house. Her father closed the door behind her.  
  
“Night.” Sam whispered to the closed door. He turned and walked down the driveway.  
  
Then he heard a howl, bloodcurdling and echoing through the town.


End file.
